School's demise brings back memories

So, my September 2011 Good Morning column topic dealt with the Letter People, the 26 residents of Alphabetland who taught me how to spel -- I mean -- spell.

Now, a year later, the school where I met them is no more.

Oh, physically it's still there. I drive by Irving Elementary School on a regular basis.

But with its closing this academic year, plus the previous evacuation of the original Roosevelt Middle School three blocks west, the first two schools I attended are now vacant.

(Insert your favorite "kind of like the space between Mike's ears" punch line here.)

I always regard Irving more fondly than Roosevelt, simply because the latter was -- well, we all have our middle school horror stories, don't we?

Mind you, elementary school wasn't void of demeaning moments. There was the style and fashion of the 1970s, so there you go right there.

But there was so much more to Irving than the bowl haircuts and butterfly-collar denim jackets I endured.

There also were plaid butterfly-collar denim jackets I endured.

Some other flashbacks brought on by word of the school's demise:

- My fourth-grade class receiving a mini-pinball machine because we raised the most money for. ...

To be honest, I don't remember who or what profited from our child labor. Whatever the cause, our teacher, Mrs. Schultz, found it important enough to parade us and that era's version of Xbox entertainment into other classes and inform them who won the fundraiser.

In other words, she wanted to brag. ("Boo-yeah, Mrs. Spangenberg! Boo-yeah!")

- Getting a front tooth chipped by the corner of Chuck Liegel's metal lunch box, which he chose to wield head high while surfing across an ice patch.

It would be the first of -- let's see, one, two, three -- 9,283 incidents where said tooth fractured. One time, the fake part broke off during a sandlot football game, and I wasn't even hit in the Chiclets.